


Proud Traditions

by dracogotgame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Family, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 05:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13159998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracogotgame/pseuds/dracogotgame
Summary: Lucius sets out to protect his son's virtue.





	Proud Traditions

**Author's Note:**

> Just a wee holiday fic for y'all- old fic, written last year, not posted here so far because reasons. Consider it my penance for being gone so long. Have a good one, kids!

Lucius surveyed the opulent banquet hall of his ancestral home with smug satisfaction. Despite all the unpleasantness of the War, the proud tradition of the Malfoy Yule Ball still held strong. The champagne was flowing, the music was soft and lilting and there was more than one important dignitary in the mix of guests. This, Lucius decided, would work out splendidly.  
  
And then he turned around and it all went to Hades.  
  
“Narcissa,” Lucius hissed, narrowing his eyes at the appalling scene unfolding before him. “What is  _that_  all about?”  
  
“Hm?” Narcissa politely disengaged herself from Duchess Something-or-the-Other and glided over to his side. “What is it, darling?”  
  
Lucius jerked his head to the right, indicating the source of his displeasure. “What on earth is  _he_ doing here? This affair is Invite Only!”  
  
Potter stood a little ways off, chatting pleasantly with his son. Draco said something and Potter threw his head back and laughed. Then he slipped an arm—  _actually slipped an arm_ — around Draco’s shoulders and drew him closer. Lucius felt his fists clench and his fingers itch for his wand.  
  
“Oh dear,” Narcissa sighed. “I was hoping you’d have a little more champagne in you before you came across them.”  
  
“What is that supposed to mean?”  
  
“Now darling, do stay calm,” she said, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder. “I...may have neglected to mention that Mr Potter has been...ahem,  _courting_  our Draco for the past several weeks.”  
  
 **“What?!”**  
  
“Lucius!” Narcissa hissed urgently. “Lower your voice.”  
  
“I forbid it,” Lucius snapped back. “There will be no courting! Potter is a no good scoundrel with a lineage befitting a troll! And Draco is  _barely_  of age.”  
  
“Lucius, he’s twenty three,” Narcissa replied with a put upon sigh. “We were married and  _well_ on our way to starting a family at that age.”  
  
That, understandably, did nothing to reassure Lucius. He turned around to glare daggers at Potter’s back...  
  
...only to witness something truly unspeakable.  
  
“They are kissing,” he managed in a furious sputter. “Narcissa, that vagabond is molesting  _my_  son in my own  _home!”_  
  
“Honestly,” Narcissa scolded. “They’re standing under the mistletoe, Lucius! It’s tradition. A Pureblood Yule tradition that our family has always treasured, I might add.”  
  
She had him on a technicality. It wouldn't do to interfere with tradition. That was hardly the Malfoy way. Lucius grudgingly subsided, silently seething as he watched Potter wrap his free arm around Draco’s waist and indulge almost obscenely in the kiss. For Salazar’s sake! Was the boy ever going to come up for air or not?  
  
“Just remember, darling,” Narcissa soothed him, with a smile in her voice. “It’s all part of a proud and glorious tradition.”  
  
Potter of course, chose that exact moment to let a wayward hand trail downwards and squeeze Draco’s backside.   
  
Draco squeaked in surprise, Narcissa blushed and Lucius quite literally saw red. Promptly, he disentangled himself from his wife, straightened his shoulders and marched off, preparing to defend the family honour from Potter’s vile intentions.  
  
“Lucius!” Narcissa called after him in clear exasperation. “What on earth are you doing?!”  
  
“Honouring a proud Yule tradition, my dear,” Lucius called back. “I’m going to roast Potter’s chestnuts on an open fire!”


End file.
